


The things we do in dark rooms.

by Planar_Snap



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, F/F, In Medias Res, Lesbian Sex, misuse of magic, pre-campaign 2, shock play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23681284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Planar_Snap/pseuds/Planar_Snap
Summary: Astrid works on her latest toy, one she meets in a small tavern while out doing her “back room work.”Set prior to campaign two’s start.
Relationships: Yasha/Astrid
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	The things we do in dark rooms.

#  
She muses on the concept that perhaps spending time in dark cool isolated rooms while inflicting pain on people, spending time poking and prodding then till you discover what will make them moan, cry and whimper till they beg for release might be slightly problematic when it consists of both her work life and private play time with only a sleight deviation between the two. But her guest this evening is just too much of a delight to pass on. 

The room is lit entirely buy the dull scarlet glow of the magic flowing through it. Casting her guests mostly naked pale flesh into deep near blood red. For her part she’s dressed to expectation. Wearing variations of her various volstucker outfits. Tight white dress shirt mother of Pearl buttons, creases pressed so sharp they could cut. Black gloves, reaching yo mid forearm soft, fine made of rich leather, arcane sigils on front and back stitched into the material with thread from a unicorn mane, purchased on her last trip to vassalhiem. 

Her boots and pants were also of rich dark leather, tight and form fitting rounding out her proportions in a way that makes her oddly comfortable. It’s a stark contrast from the dowdy, heavy clothes she wears as a teacher. The tight conformation, the thickness, the soft creak and the scent all help her find her....place, centre and mood. The black leather pants, held up with a belt lined with thick square studs gives way to the knee high officers boots that are flat solid riding boots made with plates under the toe tip. Useful for injury but she’s also found other uses for that hard spot too, sitting tucked into the top of the left boot is her favourite crop, occasionally tapping in the air against her thigh as she moves. 

The scarlet light luminary’s stern features, making the scar on her face appear deeper and bouncing off the exposed skin now healed but forever textured like cool molten wax at her neck. She breathes in deeply, incense of jasmine accompanied by sex fill her nose and run that lightning like tingle through her body. She’s about to go to work, it’s a rush she half hates, half loves, one breath in, then in , then out, then in before blinks and focuses.

Before her, her subject, her canvas, her willing victim. Scarlet red thin bands of light coil of her playmates restrained body. Her long tangle of bicolored dreadlocks and hair pulled into a high ponytail. The bands start at her jaw tracing up and over her head as well as around back , one above the ear one at the base of skull the light applies a level of force and pressure locking her jaw her place keeping her for moment silent other that mostly anyways. 

A harness like weave encompasses her torso wrapping between her breasts and up and over those....she pauses and licks her lips...statuesque and divine shoulders, she could spend hours getting to know those muscles, lips and fingers exploring every millimetre. The harness is tight but then slides along and up her equally gorgeous arms. For a moment a deep counter-intuitive fantasy involving them pieces her mood before admiration returns. The scarlet light moves in long coils down her arms, currently held out to her sides she angled up just little. As the holding spell reaches her captives palm it forms a flat on each side of the hand holding them in place, then each finger is held splayed apart illuminating magic capping finger holding them in place. 

She’s found that there’s something intimidating about holding a subjects hands open like that, the full denial of the slightest movement. She can see the muscles strain in an effort to move but there is no result. The crimson glowing bands will hold her captive in place for at least another....probably forty minutes or till she decides to end the spell. She smirks as she paces slowly in quiet circle, her footfalls muffled by the pads on her boots. They’re a little worn for infiltration but work for this. 

The last part of her subjects restraint comes in two thin bands pinning her feet to floor interwoven between toes like the fingers. She breathes in slowly And spins on her heel like she’s pulling an about turn mid march. She steps close, looking up at the taller woman 

“Shall vee begin Leibchen?” She asks rhetorically as she traces a finger along a taught naked thigh. With a practiced thought she wills the essence of magic contained in everything into being as that soft supple leather traces outline of of the muscles, sliding over the odd scar drawing mewls from her gagged subject. Raw lightning crackles from her fingertips and arcs to the flesh in quick rapid random jolts. The woman’s eyes widen and her nostrils flare as she screams and pants into the gag. Astrid for her part starts to softly hum. An old melody from a field workers song, while her fingers slowly walk up the leg one touch then another, then another, then another, each filled with jolt of shock at the touch. The straining and cries continue as she closes toward the sopping dripping folds. Eyes meet her subjects, the tiny smirk on her lips and wicked light in her eyes convey what’s coming next. A leather coated finger slides inside another slips up to oh so gently to brush and press against her captive’s clit. She looks down at her hand then slowly up at her captive. 

“Remember vuu begged for this Leibchen.” 

Then she lets loose a quick rapid pulse of three shocking flashes. Screams echo out barely muffled by the tight bands of energy clamping her mouth shut. Astrid waits, closes her eyes. 

One breath in.

One breath out.

One breath in. 

One breath out, on the second release she lets a four second prolonged shocks cascade through her fingers, the others cupping around her plaything as she does. The bound captive thrashes as best she can. Muscles straining with fierce grunts to Astrid’s immense surprise she hears the subtle cracking as each finger snaps free of her spell severing hold she has on them. Immediately her eyes snap up in fear she’s gone to far, but instead she’s met with fire and anger and challlenge.  
She knows that look like the back of her own hand. She’s seen in the mirror, more times in her victims and in her friends more times than she’s eaten warm meals. Her subject flares her nostrils and tenses her muscles flexing those loose fingers and pants in pain. That drive and ache and need to feel something anything desperately craving the pressured release at another’s hand. She purrrrrrs and wraps an arm around her thigh and leans over to kiss the other soaked with drooling juices that flood Astrid’s nostrils with her scent. With her free hand she idly strokes the captives backside, softly slapping at cheeks with nogive. She gives the barely most audible whimper. She imagines her captive bent over, still bound in magic a toy strapped tightly around her own hips as she rides and pounds that behintill the Amazonian muscle woman screams become nothing but desperate pleasured mewling. She stands, trailing her hands up the woman’s body supple leather pressing into taught muscle and combat toned physique, hands inspecting curves and scars till both hands cup her chin and hold her captives face.

“Well Leibchen thats phase one passed, very good, you have been a good girl for me ya. But now we shall move onto phase Two.”


End file.
